


How Long?

by writerforlife



Series: Questions and Answers [1]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Crooked Kingdom Spoilers, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, it really isn't that much bc I'm bad at writing smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8192944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerforlife/pseuds/writerforlife
Summary: THERE ARE CROOKED KINGDOM SPOILERS IN THISAfter everything settles down, Wylan and Jesper settle in. In which Wylan has questions, Jesper has answer, and vice versa.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I finished Crooked Kingdom today and was a jumble of emotion. Needless to say, this appeared from that tangled mess. This is my first time writing these characters, so I hope it isn't OOC. Thank you for reading, and PLEASE don't hesitate to scream at me about the book.
> 
> Also this ended up as 5+1 which is such a common thing but I love it whoops

1.

“How long?” Wylan asked one night as they laid in bed together. The question had been on his mind ever since the his father had been arrested, ever since he had learned that the Van Eck fortune was to be controlled by him, ever since Jesper had whispered,  _ “I can read to him.” _

“There are a lot of answers to that,” Jesper answered with a smirk. He was shirtless, his gray eyes twinkled, and when he raised his eyebrows slightly, Wylan thought he was radiant. “I think you know the obvious one.”

Wylan felt his face flush, and that feeling was confirmed when Jesper kissed his cheek. He had taken to kissing him when he blushed. He had taken to kissing him when he wasn’t blushing, but Wylan wasn’t complaining. Now was not the time for it, though. “You told my father you would read to me. For how long?”

Jesper propped himself up on his elbows so he could look him in the eye. “You can’t be trying to get rid of me already.” It was said in jest, but he could see a hint of worry in the way he twisted the sheets around his fingers. 

“What? No.” Wylan sighed and laid back. Music. Equations. Numbers. Maybe he would have to start asking big questions in song. It would be entertaining, at least, and easier than stumbling around what he wanted to say. “You could be in Ravka with Nina, training. You could be with Kaz at the Slat. You could be with your dad, at home. But you’re here. And I was wondering…” Wylan trailed off, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “Never mind.”

But he had Jesper’s attention, now. He was sitting up, staring at Wylan. For once, he didn’t say anything.

“For as brilliant as you are, you really can have trouble getting things through that pretty head of yours.” He tugged on one of Wylan’s curls. “Relax, merchling. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ever?”

“Well, I may have to go to the bathroom. But I’ll come back.” He took Wylan’s hand in his.

For a moment, Wylan didn’t say anything. His curiosity was too strong to wait a long time, though. “Why?”

“Are you really going to make me…? Jesper trailed off when he saw him looking at him pleadingly. “Fine, I’ll feed your ego. But if anyone asks, I was drunk when I said this. You are probably the most infuriatingly clever person I’ve met, and that is on top of being quite attractive.”

“My stupid face,” Wylan recalled. 

“Extremely stupid.” He tapped Wylan’s nose with two fingers and a mischievous grin that faded into something more serious. “There isn’t anywhere else I would rather be. You’re good for me. Too good.I hope you never realize that.” He laid back and yawned. “I have to get some beauty sleep. Night.”

Jesper closed his eyes, and in an instant, he was snoring. Wylan was still awake, though.

“I’m not too good. We’re just right.” He kissed the corner of his mouth before laying his head on his chest and drifting off.

 

2.

“How long?” Wylan asked. He leaned against the door of his father’s, no, his, house. Jesper stood in front of him, handsome and composed in a new suit with a suitcase in his hand. Now that Wylan was settled into his position, they had decided it was time for Jesper to visit his father. Since Inej was visiting and could fill in for awhile, it was the perfect opportunity.

“This again?” Jesper sighed, but the twinkle in his eyes gave away his amusement. “What’s on your mind?”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I know your memory is better than that.”

“Indulge me.”

“Three weeks. Three weeks and I’ll be back to annoy you. Don’t run the business into the ground.”

Wylan gulped. That was a possibility. 

“Please don’t tell me you actually think I think that’s a possibility.”

“No.”

Jesper leaned in close. “You’re a terrible liar.” He kissed Wylan gently, cupping his jaw. “I don’t think you could do it if you tried.”

“I’ll miss you reading to me,” Wylan admitted.

“Inej has a lovely voice. You need to thank every God in existence it isn’t Kaz. His voice sounds like rocks against the street. Or Nina. She would flirt with the words.” 

“You flirt with the words. And the people I do business with.”

“They love my charm, as do both you and your pockets. Don’t worry. I save the best for you.” He leaned close again. “Oh, just wait until I get home.”

“What are you going to do?” Flirting was easier now, and he was beginning to see why Jesper and Nina found it so amusing. When he caught Jesper off-guard, he could make him stutter and flush a deep crimson. He loved that he was the one who could make Jesper bashful.

“I guess I have three weeks to think about it.” Jesper winked, then looked at the carriage behind him. “Time to go, I guess.”

“Be safe.” Wylan kissed him one last time.  _ I love you _ . The words popped into his head, but thankfully he didn’t blurt them out. He didn’t know if they were ready for that yet.

“No mourners,” Jesper grinned. He hadn’t dropped the old saying yet.

Wylan grinned to himself as he stepped into the carriage. He whispered to himself, “No funerals.”

 

3.

“How long?” Wylan gasped. Jesper was on top of him, kissing him senseless. He barely could form the words, but he had to know.

“Hmm?” Jesper paused mere inches from his lips. Wylan raised a hand to trace the shape of Jesper’s mouth. His first assessment hadn’t been wrong: he really did have perfect lips. “If you aren’t going to finish I was very busy.”

“How long did you like me before we kissed?”

“Hmm.” Jesper leaned down and kissed Wylan’s bare shoulder. “I liked flirting with you. I liked watching you blush. He pressed his lips to his neck. “You’re cuter when you’re all pink,” he murmured, moving his mouth closer to his ear. His breath hitched slightly.

Jesper slid his hand down to Wylan’s stomach. “Then when your father blew up the ship, I realized I liked you. And it was all downhill from there.” He kissed his mouth, and Wylan felt his mind go blank. “And now look at us.”

For a few minutes, they only kissed, but then Jesper pulled back slightly. “You have to tell me now. It’s the rule.”

“What is?”

“When did you start to like me?” For once, Jesper sounded uncertain, unconfident. 

When Wylan saw an opportunity, he took it. He sat up, readjusted, then pushed Jesper down onto their bed.

“You came to the tannery to tell me Kaz wanted to see me. You gave me an address. I saw you and thought that you had perfect lips.” He pressed his thumb to Jesper’s lip.

“You couldn’t read the paper,” he said softly. 

“I couldn’t. But you came through for me.” He cupped Jesper’s face with both hands and kissed him again. “You always do.”

Jesper ran a hand through Wylan’s curls. “I always will,” he said. Then he cleared his throat, and his usual flirtatious self reappeared. “Now. Where were we?”

Wylan kissed him.

 

4.

“How long?” Wylan asked quietly. It was the middle of the night, but Jesper was sitting up in bed with his head between his knees. Wylan rubbed circles into his back methodically. 

He had waken up to Jesper trembling in his sleep. At first, he had been curious, but when he had started tossing, turning, and whimpering, it transformed into concern. Then, when Jesper had cried out, when a tear had run down his cheek, he decided he couldn’t take it. He had shaken him away.

He knew something was wrong when Jesper had taken one look at him and started gasping for breath. There were so many questions he had, but he had to make sure he didn’t hyperventilate. He held Jesper against his chest for the worst of it, only letting go when he was sure he wouldn’t start crying again. 

“How long?” he repeated. No response. “Jes, look at me.” Wylan put two fingers under Jesper’s chin and tilted it towards him. He could see the fear, the defiance, and the sadness all wrapped together like a dreadful Christmas present. “Jes, please.”

“Weeks. They’re different every time. Sometimes it’s my dad. Sometimes it’s Kaz, or Inej, or Nina, or even Matthias.” Jesper gulped. “Sometimes it’s you. I hate when it’s you.” Jesper was shaking.

“Tell me,” Wylan whispered.

“I can’t.”

“You have to, love.” Wylan ran his thumb over his cheekbone. “You can’t carry it by yourself.”

“It tore you to pieces. The bird man. And I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was watch as it hurt you. It wouldn’t  _ stop _ . You screamed, and screamed, and screamed. You kept calling my name. You told me that I couldn’t protect you. And… and you were right. How am I supposed to protect you? I can’t even keep track of money.” Jesper was sobbing by this point.

Before now, Wylan had never seen him cry. He was always so sure, so steady. He couldn’t stand it. He reached forward and held him. His tears soaked his chest, a downpour, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

When Jesper’s sobs turned to small hiccups, Wylan wiped away the last few tears. “I want you to listen to me carefully. Out of all the people in this world, I trust you the most. I know you would do anything for me. You would protect me, yes?” Jesper nodded. “Then let the dream be just that. Your mind is a funny thing. I know you will always keep me safe.”

“How?”

“Because, as you like to remind me, I’m quite clever.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” Moments passed, and Wylan could feel the night healing itself. He laid back down, and was almost asleep when he heard Jesper whisper, “Thank you.”

 

5.

“How long?” Wylan asked sleepily.

“About two hundred pages. Come on, we can do it. I’ll even do voices for the different characters. It’s a classic story, Wylan.”

Wylan took in the wide smile on Jesper’s face, his sparkling eyes, and the tattered book in his head. He had brought it home after his visit to Zemeni, only telling Wylan that it was one of his childhood favorites.

“You win.”

“I always do, and you know it.” Jesper climbed into bed and opened the book. He began to read in his calm baritone, the one that had guided Wylan through so many business deals.

He had come to love Jesper reading to him. He loved the way he pronounced each word clearly and precisely so that Wylan could process every concept. He loved how when he read stories, he did different voices just so Wylan would laugh. He loved how when some men made fun of his inability, Jesper drew himself to his full height and stroked his pearl-handled revolvers. 

Maybe it wasn’t just the reading part he loved. 

_ I love you _ .

“What did you say?” Jesper asked, the book falling to the mattress.

Damn. Apparently he hadn’t thought it.

“Nothing,” Wylan whispered. What if he had just ruined everything? What if Jesper hadn’t been ready to hear those words?

“Please, Wy.” Jesper’s voice shook. “Say it again.”

Wylan took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “I love you.”

The grin that came to Jesper’s face could have lit up the darkest corners of the barrel. “ _ Ghezen _ , I love you, too. I love you so much.”

“It’s not too much?” Wylan asked.

“You adoring me is not too much. You’re never too much.” Jesper kissed him soundly, then pushed him to the bed. “There are more exciting things than reading, you know,” he whispered huskily. 

Wylan glanced up, and when he saw Jesper’s face, all beautiful, angular, nonsensical lines, he couldn’t have agreed more.

 

+1

“How long?” Jesper asked.

Wylan raised his head from the crook of Jesper’s neck. “That’s my question.”

“How long did you think you were stupid? How long did he make you think you were stupid?” The fury in Jesper’s voice was thinly veiled.

Today had been the first day of his father’s trial. They had waited a long time to start, but now that it was here, Wylan had to be present, and Jesper hadn’t wanted him to go without him. He thought that he handled the insults thrown at his intellect better than Jesper. He had had practice, but Jesper hadn’t.

“Too long,” Wylan replied.

“You don’t feel like that now, right? You know you’re brilliant? That you not being able to read doesn’t matter?”

“I don’t think you would let me forget.”

That satisfied Jesper, but only for a moment. “Did he hit you?” he asked quietly.

Wylan said nothing. Jesper swore violently. 

“Tell me.”

So Wylan told him. He told him how he felt afraid, how he hid, how he learned how to count so high because he would count the seconds where he was safe. He told him how he would hit him when he couldn’t read simple things, when he expressed grief for his mother, when he made a social blunder. He told him how his father had tried to get him killed. That was when Jesper had inhaled deeply, but let Wylan finish. It felt good, letting it all out, and there was no one he trusted more than Jesper. He had proven himself time and time again.

“Prison is too good for him,” Jesper said quietly. “I wish I had found you earlier.”

“You’re here now.”

“I am.”

“For how long?”

Jesper kissed his forehead gently. “Forever.”


End file.
